


'Twas the Night Before Christmas

by Annariel



Category: Primeval
Genre: Crack, M/M, Sanctuary (Primeval)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:28:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5582222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annariel/pseuds/Annariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is the night before Christmas in Sanctuary and Stephen and Ryan are woken by a loud noise...</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Twas the Night Before Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fredbassett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/gifts).



> With thanks to Fififolle for beta-reading.

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Until, that is, a most unholy crash was followed by swearing and an almighty smash.

Ryan, lying in bed, kept his eyes closed real tight and counted to ten. They were in Sanctuary. He was already dead. So, he asked himself, what could they possibly have to fear? There were heavy footsteps on the stairs, then some frantic whispering, after which someone said "fuck!" with some vehemence.

"Do you think that is Santa Claus?" Stephen asked.

"Stephen, I hate to have to break it to you."

"If you're about to break it to me gently that Father Christmas doesn't exist, I'd like you to remember that we're both dead and live in a house we share with several other dead people, two spare feet, a genetically modified tentacle creature from the future and a mysterious management who spend their free time watching us having sex."

"Point!"

Something thumped back down the stairs. "Jesus H. Fucking Christ on a broomstick!"

"Mind you, this Santa Claus is remarkably foul-mouthed," Stephen said thoughtfully.

"Will you keep quiet! This is supposed to be a surprise!" said a different furious whisper.

"OK, so that was a woman," Stephen said.

"Fuck this for a game of soldiers," Ryan said, flinging back the bed covers and switching on the light.

"But if you stay awake and and watch for him then he doesn't visit!" Stephen objected.

Ryan snorted, debated grabbing a chair for defence but decided, this being sanctuary, the odds were more in favour of bad tempered elves than any kind of dangerous burglar. He just marched to the door of the bedroom and flung it open.

On balance, bad tempered elves would have been more probable than Lyle, dressed in an ill-fitting Santa outfit backed up by Jess who was wearing a bright green sparkling mini-dress and pointed hat.

"Lyle? Jess? What are you doing here?"

"Delivering presents, ho! ho! ho!" Lyle said.

"And I'm an elf," Jess said brightly.

Ryan looked between them. They both looked decidedly guilty.

"You know there's an actual sleigh with actual reindeer on the lawn," Stephen said following Ryan out of the room.

"Lyle, seriously, you haven't nicked Santa's sleigh have you?" Ryan said accusingly.

Lyle drew himself up to his full height, a manoeuvre somewhat undermined by the copious red material folding itself about him. He placed a hand over his heart. "Would I do such a thing?"

"Yes," Ryan said. "But Jess probably wouldn't so I'm trying to come up with a plausible explanation here."

"There was an accident," Jess said hurriedly.

"What kind of an accident?" Stephen asked.

"The kind that involves Santa Claus, an anomaly and a velociraptor," Lyle said.

"You let Santa Claus get eaten by a velociraptor?" Stephen's voice came out as a squeak of sheer horror.

"No! No! He's fine, a little annoyed and he has a sprained ankle, but he'll be right as rain in an hour or two. Apparently he heals fast."

"We're just filling in while he does. He's on a pretty tight schedule," Jess explained.

"Yeah, so I just borrowed his outfit and said I'd cover the next hour or so of deliveries while he puts his feet up and has a whisky with Lester."

Ryan had a sudden unwelcome image of Santa, in his underwear, drinking whisky at Lester's desk. He willed it away.

"I'm doing the logistics. Santa's got some really sophisticated equipment in the sleigh. I've been taking notes."

"And the mini skirt?" Stephen asked, "Where did the elf outfit come from?"

Jess gave a twirl. "Santa gave it to me as a thank you."

"Did he give Lyle anything?"

"Nothing yet. Apparently there'll be something when I get back, if I've been good."

"Have you been good?" Ryan asked, genuinely curious.

"Mostly."

"Mostly?"

"He left a pig's head in David Cameron's stocking," Jess said.

"Totally justified," Lyle interrupted.

"Security saw you!"

Ryan closed his eyes. "OK, so apart from presumably getting Santa banned from Oxfordshire, you've been good."

Lyle grinned, "And so have you two! So back to bed with the pair of you."

He shook his sack and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Ryan was deeply grateful Lyle wasn't actually Santa because he couldn't really have coped with innuendo from Santa.

"The stockings are in the living room," Stephen said. "You didn't need to come upstairs."

"Felix is in the living room," Lyle said.

"So?"

"He's changing. He's got a special outfit for Christmas," Jess explained.

"So?" Ryan repeated.

"Apparently even genetically modified tentacle sex creatures from the far future have their modesty. We tried bribing him with a Magimix but he wasn't having any of it."

"Right! Fine! Ryan, bed!" Stephen said.

"If you're going to have sex, then I'm not coming in, stocking or no stocking!" Lyle said.

Jess slapped his arm. "Don't be ridiculous. They're just going to go to sleep so you can fill their stockings. Aren't you?"

Ryan saluted. "Yes, ma'am!"

* * *

Ryan sighed contentedly. Stephen was snuggled up against him in the dark and, after a fair bit more banging and cursing, Lyle and Jess had left. He rolled over so he could slip an arm around Stephen.

Somewhere outside a voice called.

"Happy fucking Christmas to all! And to all a fucking good night!"


End file.
